


A One Man Catastrophe

by notebooksandlaptops



Series: Tumblr Prompts [3]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Post-Episode: S01E06 Rare Species, Tumblr Prompt, no beta we die like renfri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:54:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23493544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notebooksandlaptops/pseuds/notebooksandlaptops
Summary: "You make every day worth living"-///-Or, Jaskier thinks he's a one-man catastrophe, breaking Geralt over and over. Geralt disagrees.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Tumblr Prompts [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1689241
Comments: 28
Kudos: 526





	A One Man Catastrophe

The thing is, Jaskier knows that – at heart - he is a one-man catastrophe dressed up in fine doublets and charming smiles.

Oh, he’s not _awful._ He’s not _bad._ He’s a good time, in fact! Give him a lute and an audience and he’s some of the best entertainment on the continent. He wouldn’t compare himself to posion - he’s more like alcohol. He’s good in small doses, good in periodic indulgences, but too much of him? He’s lethal.

And he doesn’t even need to try hard to prove it! The long list of wrecked marriages springs to mind, as do the times he’s had to flee town _rather_ quickly to save his neck. And let nobody forget the absolute _shit storm_ with the djinn and all the trouble _that_ caused (trouble is, he would maintain, Yennefer’s middle name).

And so it’s really no shock to him that he makes Geralt’s life harder, that he is often the one ‘shovelling the pile of shit’ as Geralt oh so _nicely_ put it up on that mountain (oh, Geralt has apologised since then, and Jaskier has forgiven him, but that’s not the _point_ ). He gets into trouble and Geralt ends up risking much more than he would normally have to on his galivants around the continent in order to save him.

And recently, that point has seemed to be rather hammered home.

He just keeps—he just keeps _breaking_ Geralt, these days.

He doesn’t _mean_ to. But it keeps on happening regardless. And Geralt is still so guilty about the whole dragon fiasco that he’s not even grumbling about it. He’s being all stoic and selfless and honestly that’s _worse._

“Sorry, ah—shit, sorry, oh it’s really awful isn’t it, oh fuck—” he knows he’s rambling nonsense as he begins to dress the wound. Jaskier adds _playing with griffin babies_ onto the list of _fucking awful ideas_ but really, they’d been the ones to come up to _him_ in the forest – how was he supposed to know that their mother wouldn’t take to a bit of friendly petting?

And so Geralt had had to swoop in and save him. _Again._

Gods, Jaskier was tired of playing the damsel in distress.

“I just, they were cute! And they looked like they wanted a good scratch behind the ears and—”

“They were _griffins,_ Jaskier,” Geralt grunts from where Jaskier is bandaging his shoulder. The mama Griffin got her teeth in deep – it’ll probably leave a scar. One more scar Geralt has so valiantly received in his name. “Not farmyard pups.”

“I _know that,_ but they were friendly! Not all of us have an encyclopaedic knowledge of what monsters to and not to touch.” Jaskier defends himself weakly. He _does_ know. But like he said, one man catastrophe – he can’t help himself.

“After thirty years, I would think that the answer _not any of them_ would be rather drilled into your head by now.”

And alright, fair enough.

Jaskier presses his lips into a thin line and works on dressing the wound, letting his fingertips linger.

Geralt doesn’t say anything. That’s about as much of a scolding he’s going to get. Because of course, Geralt is still incredibly guilty and there’s still this weird tension between them. Geralt walks around like anything he says could break Jaskier. Jaskier walks around breaking Geralt without even trying to hold back and not getting told off for it.

It is…a very, very bad system.

“I am sorry,” Jaskier murmurs when Geralt finally winces his way back into his shirt.

Geralt just shakes his head, “don’t be.”

Doesn’t make Jaskier feel any less guilty as he falls asleep that night.

-///-

The next time he breaks Geralt, they’re at a banquet.

And it’s an _accident._ Mostly. Okay, maybe it’s a little bit on purpose. But he thought it would be _funny_ and he’s never been one to shy away from the prospect of teasing Geralt and he thought it would be a pretty fun thing to talk up Geralt to the Queen.

And it _is_ fun. Geralt even gets an audience and he looks like he’d much rather be wading through some swamp than making small talk with the Queen of some backwater kingdom.

But then there’s a mix-up – because someone who Jaskier _might_ have been betrothed to at one point shows up and how was he supposed to know that she’d be there? But also apparently she’s good friends with the Queen and what was a funny night quickly turns into a fight, a punch, and Geralt and him running through the gardens at top speed.

Geralt loses the contract he was planning on taking, that the Queen was talking up to him.

And it’s Jaskier’s fault.

Fuck, it wasn’t something he’d thought about before their whole thing on the mountain, but now that he’s looking, he sees it everywhere.

He sees it in the _very nearly empty_ coin purse.

He sees it in Geralt’s bruised knuckles.

He takes them in his hand. They’ll heal – maybe even by morning, Geralt heals so goddamn fast – but he still is the reason they’re there. Because Geralt had to throw a punch for him. Because Jaskier is a walking catastrophe.

He cleans them, even when Geralt tries to shrug him off. They don’t need much tending too, but Jaskier can’t give up any opportunity to be tender with Geralt. Geralt’s seen too few moments of tenderness in his long life.

“I’m sorry,” he apologises.

Geralt grunts shakes his head.

Jaskier wonders if maybe coming back to Geralt’s side was a good idea after all.

-///-

It comes to a head one Monday night, just East of the mountain pass for Kaer Morhen. Winter is setting in, hard and fast, and Jaskier probably _shouldn’t_ have convinced Geralt to stay so long at that last town. They’ll be lucky if they make the pass before the first snow – and even _that_ is the least of their problems because Geralt is _shivering._

He’s full-body _shivering._

Which is bizarre. Jaskier didn’t know he could do that – he figured, well, he figured that Geralt was a witcher. If either of them were going to suffer in the cold it wasn’t going to be the near-immortal, stunningly hunky mutant _._

Except that apparently, it is.

And Geralt had _told him_ they should go, but Jaskier hadn’t wanted to – he’d wanted to get in a good few shows before they bunkered down for winter. He was thrilled to be invited to Kaer Morhen, but he would miss the way he could manipulate a crowd.

And Geralt had sworn, and grunted, and eventually left Jaskier too it.

And now he was _shivering._

Jaskier had _done it again. Fuck._

“Here,” Jaskier moves closer, an arm outstretched in invitation.

“I don’t need--“

“You do. You look like you’re about to get frostbite.”

Geralt hums, considers, and for an awful moment, Jaskier thinks he’s going to say ‘no’ but then he doesn’t, he just slides into Jaskier’s arm, head resting on his shoulder. Jaskier rubs his arm to try and bring some warmth back into it.

“Why—”

“It’s the mutations. My heart is…slow. I struggle in the cold.”

“Ah.”

Jaskier tilts his head into Geralt’s hair. He wishes he could do more, but there’s not much more he _can_ do. Except maybe break Geralt more.

“We shouldn’t have stayed in that goddamn town so long,” Jaskier mutters, when his body heat barely seems to help at all. “Fuck, I just keep _breaking_ you.”

Geralt goes stiff in his arms.

Maybe he’s been thinking the same thing, but he didn’t want to say it out loud and Jaskier pointing it out means he can finally say _yes, yes, please stop doing that._

Only instead, Geralt moves away from him and tilts his head in that quite frankly _adorable_ way he has. His eyes look almost hurt. “Is this— _Jaskier,_ I told you I didn’t mean what I said on the mountain.”

Jaskier blinks. It's not about that. It’s been _years_ since then after all, even if they both still remember the words. Exactly. Except—

“I keep _breaking you._ This isn’t about what you said on the mountain, it’s about the fact that you were _right._ I do get you into so much shit. I break you—your shoulder, your contracts, _this._ I’m a one-man catastrophe, nobody’s ever been able to deal with me in large doses so why I thought you would…Honestly, why you put up with me, why you came back to me—”

Geralt pushes a (horridly cold) hand over his mouth, shutting Jaskier up quite promptly.

“You think you broke me, Jaskier?” And there’s a softness in his eyes that Jaskier _loves._ It’s oh so rare, but sometimes it appears and why on earth it’s being directed at him now he has no idea.

Jaskier nods slowly.

“Jaskier,” Jaskier has always liked the way Geralt says his name, “You didn’t break me. You’re the one who put me back together. I keep you around because—” he struggles for a moment, Jaskier can see it, the words refusing to come out of a mouth so used to grunting and swearing and keeping his emotions _tucked in_ not blurted out, “—I keep you around because you make every day worth living.”

Jaskier makes a soft sound at the back of his throat.

_Oh._

Geralt removes his hand, slowly, away from Jaskier’s mouth.

There’s a moment. They’re staring at each other. Geralt is still cold. He looks—uncomfortable like he’s about to take back what he said and _nope, no, that is the nicest thing he’s ever said he is_ not _going to take it back the bastard—_

Geralt takes a breath, and to stop the words coming out, Jaskier slots his mouth neatly over his.

Considering its something he’s been thinking about doing for years, worked himself up about, it’s actually…relatively easy. Simple. He kisses Geralt. Geralt kisses him back. Like they’ve been doing it for years. Like they should have been doing it all along.

“So you’re not just putting up with me?” Jaskier murmurs, as he pulls back, and then – because he can – peppering Geralt’s cheeks and nose with little kisses, “You _like_ me.” He can’t keep the smugness from his voice.

Geralt grunts.

“You _do._ ”

Geralt sighs, slips his arms better around Jaskier.

Maybe Jaskier is a one-man catastrophe, but then—Geralt’s not so great himself at keeping out of shit. And if he only gets to be good at one thing, if he gets one blessing, one talent, one skill. Well. He’ll take being able to put Geralt back together again.

**Author's Note:**

> I now take tumblr prompts for cute lil ficlets like this! If you're interested [@Jaskier-wearing-dresses](https://jaskier-wearing-dresses.tumblr.com/) just drop one in my inbox :) (or just come say hi in general, always happy to make new witcher friends)


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